We leave home at 9 o'clock and ride the 140kms to BrålandaRasta.
We usually stop at the Mellerud rest stop but I was in dire need of a caffeine refill.
Another refill later, this time for petrol before we ride into Goteborg where we stop at the Bäckebol mall and jump inside Mediamarkt.
The bear wanted a pair of in-ear headphones for his phone so he could listen to some music during the highway stretches.
Since it was that time a day we also got some lunch, my appetite wasn't all that great because the nausea I should have gotten after the late night drinking Saturday seems to have been delayed.
I must have gotten a new world record in traveller's tummy because we haven't even left the country and my stomach is in a state of chaos. Not a great start.
After lunch we got back on the bikes and rode on, the bear was still taking the lead and was galloping on like he had rabies and with a wild Tiger in tow the miles flew past.
The two previous first stops Tomasdal and Svalöv felt silly since we had plenty of energy to push on.
I brought the laptop with me on a refuel/coffee-stop and we started discussing what we thought we'd manage milege-wise.
We decided on somewhere around Roskilde and found a nice little hotel in Sorö where we booked a room from the café-corner of the gas station.
Since I had forgotten to set the GPS from shortest to quickest route we got ourselves a bit of a sightseeing tour through the Malmö ghettos and unfortunately it wasn't just the average skin tone that got darker, the sky was as well and the first drops of rain started to fall.
I've always felt that the vacation doesn't really start until I see the sign above the road just before the Oresund bridge that says "last exit in Sweden" and had decided I'd try to snap a picture of it this time.
I prepared myself by tucking the camera in a side pocket of my jacket.
What I'd managed to forget was that the sign comes before the speed reduction of the toll.
I'm not really kamikaze enough to try and snap a picture riding 130 km/h in the rain on a motorcycle so I think I'll just settle for the picture in my mind for now.
It turns out that it was just Sweden the sun had turned its back on, when we ride up from the tunnel after the bride on the Danish side it was like we'd ridden to another continent with the sun as bright as a floodlight in our faces.
It was a good feeling when we finally arrived at the hotel, by the end I was killing insects with my helmet and body at such a biblical scale it almost felt like my whole body was itching and crawling.
After checking in, parking the bikes right outside our rooms window and making ourselves a bit more presentable (sometimes the staff at the nicer hotels are so stuck up and posh it's very hard to resist not screwing with them a bit) we made our way to the hotel restaurant.
The evening supper was fillet of beef and even though I made sure the waitress understood that I'm allergic to milk I got the beef with a mountain of herb butter, potatoes that seemed to have been boiled in butter and a side of mashed potatoes which I'm sure contained milk.
I was tired, irritated and hungry. I used the linen napkin to squeeze the butter out of the filet.
Not my proudest moment but an ice cold Royal beer soothed what guilty conscience I might have had.
On the bright side, if meat makes you constipated a meat-only supper might solve my stomach problems.
Back at the room we booked the next nights stay at the Gresham Carat Hotel in Hamburg.
"Home" for the next few weeks.